Wednesday, September 2, 2009

illegal search, seizure optional

things i have done in the past week & a half that i ordinarily
a) wouldn't do
b) wouldn't admit to doing
c) wouldn't remember doing, thus being unable to admit to doing

  • passed 3 piss tests, the probationary equivalent of jumping through hoops [Broadway's own trained seal, at your service]

  • saw a movie in a real live movie theater [district 9. download it instead, trust me, unless you relish paying for disappointing conclusions]

  • admitted out loud the extent of my mining the smacktail during my last university semester, much to the sick fascination of those listening [inquiring about ingestion methods, etc--what am i supposed to do, advise you to make human pincushions of yourselves? because i will if i have to, my conscience got hit by a car a long time ago]

  • got a library card [obligatory good-girl curveball of the list]

  • took an ill-advised concert cruise which--while kicking great heaping piles of musical ass in the form of Amon Tobin--was a truly nightmarish experience in all other aspects, fraught with douchebags, $10 drinks, & histrionic bitches stomped to death on the dancefloor

  • landed three job interviews

  • was stood up for one of those three by a vaguely humanoid piece of shit who had me waiting in starbucks for 40 minutes like it was 2006 all over again & i was some second-rate slice of velvet underground lyric

  • enrolled in two cash-heavy clinical trials, each of which disqualifies me from participating in the other, but they don't have to know that

  • sleepwalked, apparently several times

  • passed through the eye of a needle, but apparently it was the wrong kind, goddamnit

tonight i win friends & influence people under the influence with "wandering violin serenades" at Winkel's "stranded" party. which has had the shit advertised out of it for the past month, so either we all get our artistic endeavors "discovered" or we get shut down stampeded crushed arrested & probably shot by a pile of overzealous nightlife cops. guess which one i'm expecting!!!!

no but really this'll be fun. just don't tell anyone

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Miss Understanding 2009

last Thursday i participated in a subway-party-cum-art-exhibit that somehow spiraled into a sociopolitical morass, & now feel the need to explain myself:

people play music on trains. people play music on train platforms. these are both common occurrences, not requiring phone calls to the cops, the transit police, or the local militia. commuters who do not want to hear this music are generally out of luck, unless they've brought headphones or have selective hearing--i know, i've been one of these commuters many times, more frequently now that my mp3 player is busted & a new one has yet to present itself for an acceptable price. somehow, 99% of these musicians don't get called out by catty after-the-fact wannabe pundits who demean the entire affair as the brainchild of "privileged white hipsters" invading "their" territory with loud noise & circus effects. speaking from the back of the J train--which passes outside my window hello J train i live off you--i heard unamplified violin, guitar, & banjo music, a girl singing, people bustling around handing out donuts & juice, maybe flowers. not disruptive. didn't see any commuters getting any more pissed off than they'd been when they got on the train. no one raises an eyebrow when subway musicians commandeer a car, often with much higher volumes of noise--i can't be the only person who's almost gotten kicked in the face by a breakdancer, but done nothing about it except maybe move a few inches to the left--& "white" is a lazy descriptor by internet douchebags who can't even be bothered to look at the pictures taken at the event, not only irrelevant but completely wrong. i'm not a fucking hipster & plenty of people present were not fucking hipsters. lazy generalizations will be the death of responsible reporting.* same with privilege--sure, some people there were probably subsidized at least in part by their parents. plenty weren't. "trust fund hipster" at this point is such a cliche that unless you are using it to describe a single person, it's all but meaningless.

[the sociopolitical commentary re: "songs about money" supposedly made on the Broadway Junction platform is asinine, however, though i don't know who made it--i am assuming it was a to-remain-unnamed aspiring Rock Star who in his rush to the top tends to step in his own mouth. as for the "acrobats" doing flips over the subway railings & dropping change from their pockets, i wish i had been in THAT car. that change would be MINE, fuckers.]

*the author makes no claim as to the existence of responsible reporting on this site, & never will